The Little Bridge
by ganontheumbreon
Summary: A little mistake has led to Arthur becoming pregnant. He's willing to accept Francis's help, but is he giving him anything in return? Lolnope. Contains FrUK, mpreg, swearing, and lots of emotional sad stuff. This will have multiple chapters, but I haven't decided how many there will be yet. I guess it depends on how much attention this gets. Enjoy! uvu
1. Don't get your hopes up

Tears in his eyes, Arthur threw the pregnancy test into the garbage. _'Fuck. FUCK. Is this... seriously happening? I'm going to be carrying that disgusting frog's baby all because of a stupid mistake! I hate this. I'm going to fucking die, whether it's while giving birth or because of how embarrassing this is!'_ he thought. Though he didn't want to, Arthur had no choice but to call Francis.

Calming himself down, Arthur dialed Francis's phone number and leaned back against the couch; he wanted to keep this as civil as possible. _'Let's see. He'll probably make tons of jokes about it for the next nine months and not even pay a second of attention to this child HE put inside of me.'_ he angrily thought to himself.

"Bonjour?"

"I FUCKING HATE YOU, BONNEFOY!"

"...What else is new?"

Arthur banged his head on the table. _'Fuck, did I seriously just say that? This pregnancy is going off on a bad start already.'_ "Alright, listen. A few weeks ago, you knocked me up. Correct?"

"Ahahah, oui. And?"

"Don't laugh, you snail eating douche! O-okay, just... I'm pregnant. There, I said it." Arthur let out a sigh once the words were finally spoken. _'There we go...'_

"Ah, I see... And you know this for sure?" Francis asked.

"Of course I do! Damn it, this is just... so embarrassing..." Arthur buried his face in his hands. "Just... come over here. It'll be easier to talk about this if you're here."

"Aw, don't be embarrassed! It's a beautiful little miracle you're carrying right now! I'll be right over, love." Before Arthur could complain about the lovey dovey pet names, Francis hung up. _'At least he isn't mocking me for it... Yet, anyway.'_ He groaned fell onto his back, rubbing his stomach. _'I'm going to get so fat... I really don't want this to happen.' _

He had started to doze off when he heard a knock; rubbing his eyes, Arthur opened the front door. "What took you so long to get here- W-why the hell do you have a suitcase?!"

"I'm going to be staying here for a while. Can't leave my pregnant boyfriend all alone, can I?" Francis purred.

"Boyfriend? Oh hell no. Don't even think I'm even _slightly_ attracted to you." Arthur snapped viciously. He turned to the couch and sat down, his vicious glare not leaving Francis for a second.

"Really? Because you sure seemed attracted to me when you were having sex with me a few weeks ago. Would you rather suffer from your morning sickness all alone, and have nobody to cook for your ridiculous cravings? If so, I can just go back home." Francis shrugged; it was obvious he wouldn't actually leave, but even the possibility of suffering alone was enough to scare Arthur into saying yes. "Fine! Just... don't be annoying." he grumbled.

"I'll try my hardest." Francis cooed, resting his elbow on the armrest of the chair. "Now, when did you find out?"

"Just twenty minutes ago. I called you as soon as I was positive..."

"I see." Francis sighed happily, pulling Arthur into a hug. "Ah, isn't this wonderful? We're going to have our own baby! With their cute little feet and precious, giant eyes..." Francis chuckled joyfully and pinched Arthur's stomach. "I can't wait!"

"Then _you_ can take care of it. But Francis, I want you to know something; I do _not_ love you." Arthur slapped his hand away. "Just because we did some dirty stuff a few weeks ago doesn't mean anything. So don't try to act all lovey dovey. Don't think that a stupid infant is going to bring us together." Growling, Arthur stood. "I'm going up to my room to sleep for a bit. Don't bug me."

Francis watched him go up the stairs, flinching when the bedroom door slammed. _'Oh my... Maybe I shouldn't get my hopes up for this...' _


	2. Even the baby hates Francis

The next morning, Francis woke up in an uncomfortable position on Arthur's couch. He rubbed his eyes and sleepily pulled himself up; the least he could do while he was awake was make breakfast. As Francis headed to the kitchen to make some homemade blueberry pancakes, he heard Arthur coming down the stairs. "Good morning, cher! I've started making breakfast. You like blueberry pancakes, don't you?" he called cheerfully.

Arthur had a blanket draped over his shoulders as he wandered into the kitchen. "Yes, I do. But I'm hoping that horrible smell isn't what you're expecting me to eat." he said drowsily.

Francis turned to him with a horrified expression. "I-it's just blueberry pancakes, you silly little thing! Your nose is probably just stuffy; that happens when you're pregnant!"

"My nose is fine. Your 'pancakes' smell like roadkill." Arthur insisted as he took his seat at the table. "I don't normally eat breakfast, anyway. I'll just have a cup of tea." he added.

"Nonsense, your nose is surely stuffy! And you should start eating it, then. You can't stick to unhealthy habits such as those while you're carrying _my_ baby. Also, I'm not letting these absolutely _delicious_ pancakes go to waste." Francis shakily protested._ 'What is wrong with him? They smell just as amazing as they always do...!'_ He flipped a pancake onto a plate and handed it to Arthur. "Come on, eat up! I'm sure they taste just fine."

"...Fine. But I'm not going to have more than one." Arthur grumbled. Before he could even get to his second bite, he nearly fell from his chair as he rushed to the trash can.

"Arthur...?" Francis placed a hand on the other's shoulder as he vomited. "I-I'm sure this is just morning sickness! Nothing more than that."

Once he was finished, Arthur shook his head. "Francis, I think the baby hates your cooking."

Francis couldn't speak; he just stared at Arthur with a horrified expression. "I... You... WHAT?" he finally shouted, turning to the stove. "That's ridiculous! You're lying! What kind of baby wouldn't like my amazing cooking! M-maybe it's just blueberry pancakes it doesn't like! Matthew didn't like blueberry pancakes when he was younger, so maybe this one doesn't like them either! Would you like some strawberry pancakes instead...? Or chocolate chip? Or maybe something different altogether, like an omelette or-"

"Oh, just shut up. It hates your cooking. The thought of anything homemade right now is enough to make me vomit again." Arthur groaned as he rose to his feet.

"What do you mean? What other option is there? I can't make anything NOT homemade!" Francis pouted. "Do you expect me to feed you disgusting, factory made, processed food that isn't even made with love?"

"Actually... A doughnut from the store sounds kind of good right now." Arthur teased (even though there WAS a bit of honesty behind it). "Now stop being so dramatic."

"Then you can get it yourself." Francis continued to pout childishly as he cleaned up the kitchen._ 'I truly hope he's not serious about this... The only thing about his pregnancy that I was looking forward to was cooking for him every day! And of course, eventually seeing the beautiful child being born! But if it doesn't even like my cooking, then I wouldn't be surprised if it didn't inherit my beautiful looks, either...'_ He let out a sigh once he heard the front door shut. "I'm starting to regret ever having sex with him..."

* * *

A few weeks went by. One morning, Francis was woken by Arthur vomiting in the bathroom (it was just his 'luck' that the living room was so close to it). Groaning, he stood and hesitantly peeked into the bathroom. "You feeling okay? Do you want some ginger ale?" he asked.

"No, just... Help me to my bed. Everything hurts like hell..." he croaked. Francis couldn't help but feel sympathy for Arthur, despite how rude he'd been lately. He helped him to his feet and just about _carried_ him up the stairs. "You look horrible right now... Just lay down and rest for a bit. I'll take care of everything today." Francis whispered. He tucked him in the blankets and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

"I'm not a wimp. I can take care of myself..." Arthur grumbled. However, he didn't protest any more and instead turned away from Francis. Before he dozed off, he mumbled, "And don't kiss me... I still don't like you. This stupid baby isn't going to change that."

Francis only nodded. He carefully shut the bedroom door, and silently headed down the stairs._ 'He's right. I shouldn't expect him to love me just because of one night together. But it still hurts... it's like he doesn't even care about the child! And imagine how hard it will be for them, having two parents who can't even get along for more than five minutes...'_ he thought._ 'Maybe I shouldn't even stay here any longer. There's nothing he needs me to do except drag him up to his bedroom every morning. I can't even cook for him!'_ He flopped onto the couch and sighed. _'I guess I'll leave this afternoon...' _


	3. I don't deserve it

It wasn't until late at night when Arthur finally woke up. Feeling refreshed, he crawled out of bed and changed into a pair of comfortable, yet decent looking clothes. Rubbing his eyes, he headed down to the kitchen. "Francis? Are you still awake?" he called. Silence. 'Probably asleep.' he guessed. Arthur flicked the light on; a note on the stove caught his attention.

_'I'm sorry for leaving so suddenly, but I haven't exactly felt needed around here. So I decided it was best that I left. I'm sorry for being so clingy, and I guess I shouldn't have assumed that you felt the same way I did for you. If you need my help with anything, don't be afraid to call me! _

_Toodles! xoxo (drawing of a penis)' _

Arthur wasn't going to say he was disappointed; however, he had to admit he was definitely shocked. "He just... left? Geez, he sure seems happy about it." he grumbled, throwing the crumbled note into the garbage. He sat down in his reclining chair near the window, a gentle breeze coming in through the slight opening. He rested a hand on his round-ish belly and let out a sigh. "Hey there, little one. How are you doing?" he whispered. He expected no response, but he knew for a fact that the baby could at least _hear _him, and he held on to the hope that his voice was soothing to them.

"Mommy loves you so much... In a few months I'll be able to hold you in my arms, and we'll be a wonderful family..." Arthur's babyish cooing came to a sudden stop. _'What the hell is wrong with me? I'm going to have to raise this kid all on my own. After treating Francis like total shit, how can I expect him to help me out? God damn it, how do I expect myself to do this?!' _

Standing, Arthur let out a sigh and glanced to the phone. 'I don't want to do this alone... But what should I say? Just tell him that I hate his guts but I want him to help me take care of my baby anyway? I'll sound ridiculous.' Unprepared, he grabbed the phone and dialed the number anyway.

"Bonjour...?" Francis's voice sounded like he'd just woken up.

'Shit, I forgot it was midnight.' "Oh, hello there... I just woke up a couple of minutes ago and I saw your note."

"Ah, alright. And... do you need help with something?"

"Not exactly, but... Francis, I need to talk about this. I'm so scared. I never wanted to be pregnant. I never wanted to be a mother, EVER. Fuck. I'm just... so sorry. For treating you horribly. You've done nothing but good for me these past two months, and I feel like such a shitty person for not even thanking you. And I just feel like everything would be so much easier if you came back here and continued to help me out, even after the baby is born... But I don't deserve it. I'm not even giving you anything in return, so why _should _you help me?" Arthur was trembling by the time he finished his speech. "I don't know why I'm telling you all of this..."

"So... What do _you_ want me to do? Because honestly... the only thing I'm looking forward to is the day when we get to see our baby. I'd love nothing more than to help take care of it AND you." Francis said, his voice gentle as he spoke.

"I... I really want you to help me. But I don't deserve it. I've been so horrible to you." Arthur's voice cracked at the end of the sentence.

"To be honest, I haven't been the nicest myself. I never have been. I've always picked on you ever since we were both little nations. But that doesn't mean I don't love you. I'm sorry that I've made you feel guilty for not returning the feelings. How about I come over in the morning? We can talk about this some more."

"Alright. Thank you for being so helpful." As Arthur hung up, he whispered a quick 'I love you'.


	4. Apologies

"It's going to be a girl." Arthur was confident when he said this, absentmindedly stabbing his (store bought) pancakes with a fork; he'd spent the entire morning arguing with Francis (jokingly, of course) about the traits of their baby.

"And how do you know this?"

"Because it feels like a girl. I'm the mother; I think I'd know my own baby."

"But it's my baby too," Francis purred, "So if it's a girl, then she'll have _my_ eyes."

Arthur faked a groan of disgust. "Oh, please. Blue is a disgusting color. It reminds me of..." He thought for a few moments, but then realized that the color blue didn't actually remind him of anything unpleasant. "...of your eyes. And that's disgusting."

"Oh, but you think your moldy green eyes are any better?" Francis nudged him playfully. "And do you think having this silly but pointless conversation will stop me from making you eat breakfast?"

"Fine, fine, I'll eat." Arthur chuckled, admitting that Francis had won. "But since I'm busy eating this 'important' breakfast, can you go outside and get the paper for me?"

"Sure thing!"

As soon as Francis was outside, he heard a screech from back inside the house. "Francis, come in here now!" Arthur shouted.

He expected something horrible to have happened as he rushed inside, but instead, Francis saw Arthur giggling childishly and rubbing his stomach. "She just kicked! Oh dear, your face is so pale. Sorry if I frightened you, i-it's just so exciting! Come feel, hurry!"

"It's alright, I just had a heart attack, no big deal." he replied with a pained laugh. His panic fading, Francis rested his hands on Arthur's lower stomach. "...I don't feel anything. Are you sure it wasn't just gas?"

"I don't think I'd scream for you to come in here because of _gas_, Francis. Just wait, it might happen again!" Arthur huffed. The two sat there in complete silence for a few minutes. Just as Arthur was about to say 'Alright, maybe it won't happen again...', Francis jumped. "I felt it! Oh gosh, that's adorable! My little baby is moving!" he squealed.

"_Our_ little baby." Arthur responded in a hushed tone, almost as if he didn't want Francis to hear him. However, he did.

"Right, right, I forgot." Francis turned away and slipped back into his shoes. "But you know, I really am looking forward to this. And if you want, I'll take care of the baby all on my own. Since you... didn't really want this to begin with." he added.

"No, no, you don't have to! It's not like you wanted this, either. I'm not going to dump all the responsibility on you like that." Arthur responded defensively. "I mean, I'm kind of looking forward to this, too..."

Francis paused for a moment, nodding. "So... How should we go about this?"

"I guess since both of us want to raise the baby, one of us could... move in with the other..." Arthur mumbled. He rested his elbow on the table and avoided eye contact with Francis altogether.

The other's expression went from cheerful to pained the instant Arthur finished his sentence. "That... sounds fair enough. I'm glad we got this worked out." As Francis began to head back to the front door, Arthur rushed over to him and grabbed him by the shoulders.

"And... Francis, I just wanted to..." His voice cracked as he tried to find the right words. Soon Arthur gave up and decided to speak to him with actions instead; to be more specific, he grabbed Francis by the shirt and pulled him into a kiss.

"I'm sorry."

"Do not apologize, Angleterre-"

"No, I am. I'm not apologizing for not loving you. I'm apologizing for hiding that I did. I was too full of myself to admit that I was in love with someone so much better than I am, and-"

Francis covered his mouth. "Don't _ever_ say that. I am not perfect. I am not better than you in any way. You're not perfect either, but you know what? I don't care. That's what love is; knowing someone is flawed but not caring one little bit."

Arthur buried his face into Francis's chest in an attempt to hide the tears rolling down his cheeks. "S-stupid hormones..."

"I understand." Francis comfortingly stroked Arthur's back. "I love you, and I always will."

"I love you too..."


	5. Helpless and adorable

"Are you sure you don't want me to pull you up?"

"Yes, I'm fine! I'm not some kind of infant! I can stand up on my own!" Despite his protests, Arthur struggled to pull himself to his feet. Just as he got a bit of luck and began to stand, he fell forward. Francis rushed over and caught him before any harm could be done, a faint smile growing on his lips.

"Love, it's alright if you need help getting up. I'd rather go out of my way to help you than have something bad happen." The French nation purred, his amusement clear in his tone.

"You better _enjoy_ helping me, you demon! You're the reason I'm getting so fat in the first place!" Arthur hissed.

"Oh, hush. It happens to everyone." Francis replied, pinching his chubby cheeks.

"You've been saying that about everything that's gone wrong during this pregnancy..." the Brit grumbled.

"Because I'm right." Ruffling his hair, Francis gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek. "I personally think all of this fat looks adorable on you."

"You don't have to lie. We both know I look ridiculous." Arthur shrugged it off as if it were nothing as he headed to the kitchen. Francis, however, had a horrified expression as he reached for Arthur's shoulders. "Don't ever say that about yourself again! Whether you're skinny, or a little pudgy, or so big that you can fit a hula hoop around your thigh, you'll always be sexy and beautiful to me." Pulling him into a gentle hug, he kissed Arthur on the lips.

"That last image is a little disturbing." Arthur laughed, "But... thank you. I was starting to think you didn't find me attractive. I don't know why, though, because you kiss me every five fucking seconds."

"That wouldn't happen in a million years." Francis kissed him again, a flirty smile sneaking onto his lips.

Purring, Arthur added, "And hey, my due date is in a few weeks. So at least I'll be able to stand up on my own after that."

"I'll admit, I'm going to miss having you all helpless and adorable like this. But seeing our baby will definitely make up for it." Francis whispered. He pulled Arthur into another tight hug and kissed him again and again.

* * *

**(Agh sorry this chapter is late (and kind of crappy)! The baby will be born very very soon, to anyone who's getting impatient uvu Also, I decided I might end this story with eight chapters. However I might do a few oneshots with this plot sometime in the future!) **


	6. The Day Has Come

"FRANCIS!"

The screech pulled Francis straight from his dreams, nearly giving him a heart attack as well. Still in his underwear, he rushed down the stairs. "What is it? Why are you screaming so early in the morning?" Francis whined.

"G-God damn it, _help me_!" Arthur's voice was pained, now. He sounded almost as if he would burst into tears any moment. Panicking, Francis turned the light on. He almost joined the other in his screeching at the sight in front of him.

Sitting on the bathroom floor, Arthur's legs were spread apart. The crotch of his pants were soaked and his breath was growing heavier with each minute. "I-I had a few contractions. They're getting worse! And my water broke while I was shouting for you. I think the baby is coming! Help me, you worthless asshole!" Arthur let out another sharp cry of pain.

Francis's eyes lit up with excitement at hearing the news. "Really? She's coming right now? Oh, I'm so excited!" he cheered.

"Just shut up and take me to the hospital! You can giggle and celebrate when she's born!" Arthur snapped.

* * *

"Ouch... fuck... she's out and everything still hurts. Fuck." Arthur groaned. "Where is she? Can I at least hold her while I suffer?"

Before anything else could be said, one of the nurses stepped into the room. She carried a small, crying bundle in her arms. "He's very beautiful. He seems healthy, too." she said cheerfully.

"He? Damn it." Francis pouted. Arthur burst into laughter at hearing this. "Oh, shut up! Our child was just born and you're concerned about its genitals?"

"Of course not! I just wanted a little girl I could dress up, but... I guess he'll have to do." the French nation teased. He took the child in his arms and sighed joyfully. "He's just... absolutely beautiful, Arthur..."

Arthur had just enough energy to peek into the little bundle. The child had a fuzzy, blonde patch of hair on his head; his cheeks were bright red, and his eyebrows were very thick, much like his mother's. As soon as Arthur spoke, his baby blue eyes opened just a bit.

"He's precious... Let me hold him." Arthur whispered. Without even waiting for Francis to hand her over, he took their child into his arms and covered his face with plenty of kisses. "I love him so much..! Francis, I..." He stopped himself; his voice cracked, and tears began to roll down his cheeks. Arthur waited a few moments before he could continue. "I-I love you, Francis. I'm sorry for being so cruel to you this whole time... I was so terrified of being pregnant, and I wanted to blame it all on you to make myself feel better. But now, all I really want is to raise him with you, and spend the rest of my life with you..."

Francis silenced him with a kiss. "It's alright. Let's forget every bad thing that's happened between us up until this day. We've fought ever since the day we became nations, and I think this angel is finally bringing it to a stop. So let's allow him to do his job."


	7. Restless Nights

"...Is Andrew seriously crying again?" Arthur groaned, sitting upright in bed for the fourth time that night. "I just changed his diaper a few minutes ago... My guess is that he's hungry."

Francis was heavily asleep, so as expected, he had no response. Arthur let out a sigh as he rolled out of bed and headed back to the nursery. "What is it this time, love? You hungry?" he cooed. The Brit unbuttoned his pajama shirt, lifting their newborn child into his arms and holding him up to his chest. His crying stopped instantly. "That's what I thought, you little demon... Oh, but you know I love you. I know all babies are huge pains in the ass, so I won't blame you."

Arthur took a seat in the rocking chair and let out a sigh of content. It was conveniently placed next to the window, and the moon lit the room up just enough for him to see the baby in his arms. "If I knew any good ones, I'd sing you a lullaby. I'm sure Francis knows a few..."

"Indeed I do~"

Arthur's eyes left Andrew just long enough to glance up at Francis, who was standing in the doorway. "What are you doing awake? I hope I didn't wake you up."

"No, I was already awake."

"What? You pretended to be asleep? You jerk!"

"Hush. Only soft, happy voices should be used around our baby! Especially while you're feeding him." Francis pulled up a chair next to Arthur, covering his cheek with kisses.

"Sorry. Does Francis want me to snuggle wuggle him to death?" he hissed in response.

Andrew began to squirm, and Arthur pulled him away from his chest. "You ready to go back to sleep?" He brought their baby back over to his crib and gently tucked him in. "Now stay asleep. No more screaming. Me and Daddy haven't had a full night of sleep in days because of you."

Andrew kicked his legs obliviously, drooling all over one of his stuffed animals and giggling happily.

"If he starts crying again, wake me up. Alright?" Francis whispered. "Now let's go back to bed. I'm taking you out for lunch tomorrow."

"What? You never told me about this..." Arthur mumbled.

"Hushhh, you're sleepy..." Francis led him back to the bedroom and shut the door quietly. "You need your rest."


	8. Everyone Was Happy

"...You've been staring at me the whole time we've been here. Is there something you're trying to tell me?" Arthur grumbled, gazing off at the window.

"Maybe." Francis gently grabbed the other's hand and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. He then slipped his arm around his waist and leaned as close as he could, whispering, "Arthur... were you serious when you said you really loved me?"

"Of course. I may have lied to you a ton before but I wouldn't lie about that." Arthur responded, a bit confused. He wasn't quite sure why Francis had turned so... serious out of nowhere. "Why?"

Francis then reached into his coat pocket. "Well... I'm going to ask you something. But I want you to answer honestly; don't feel pressured just because we're in public, or because I've been raising Andrew with you."

"Francis...?"

He pulled out a small box, his baby blue eyes not leaving the other's. "Will you marry me?"

The words caused Arthur to freeze up, leaving him speechless. "I... I'm... Francis, you...!" was all he could spit out before tugging him into a loving kiss. "Of course I'll marry you..." he finally whispered once their lips parted. "I've loved you for all this time, and... I couldn't bear to be without you after all of this..."

* * *

"Andrew, look at what Papa gave me!"

The child's baby blue eyes focused on the gold ring on Arthur's hand, and he dropped the slobbery teddy bear in his arms. "Abaa..."

"Yes, that's a ring. Do you know what that means?" Arthur cooed. He scooped Andrew into his arms and kissed his furry head. "It means we're going to get married. And _that_ means we're going to spend the rest of our lives together. This ring lets everyone know that-"

The bedroom door swung open. "Aw, is someone telling Andrew the wonderful news?" Francis called, amusement clear in his voice.

"What? No, that's ridiculous. Babies can't hold conversations. Their brains are even less developed than yours." Arthur snapped defensively.

"Alright, alright, nothing to be ashamed of~" Francis giggled.

"Shut up!"

Suddenly, he was hugged from behind. Francis rested his head on Arthur's shoulder and dragged his fingers down to his hips. For just a moment- though he wouldn't admit it- Arthur felt like he wasn't a nation; just a normal human living with their family. And he was brought across a river of hatred toward Francis with the help of a little bridge named Andrew.

THE END

* * *

**Yeeeeehaw it's finally finished! I hope everyone likes it! **throws sprinkles** **


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